


Make Them Kiss!

by joyofthejoui



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:07:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22943791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joyofthejoui/pseuds/joyofthejoui
Summary: In which various talented authors' OCs are borrowed for OC Kiss Bingo snippets.1. First Kiss. Cecilia Varo and Regulus Umbranox.2. Surprise Kiss. Alen and Silmarien.3. Angry Kiss. Curinwe and Kel4. Kiss Aftermath. Cyrelian and Firion5. Forehead Kiss. Clea Orsino and Emilin.6. Cheek Kiss. Nikos Aelius and Regulus Umbranox
Comments: 15
Kudos: 12
Collections: OC Kiss Bingo 2020





	1. First Kiss: Cecilia Varo and Regulus Umbranox

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Iunara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iunara/gifts), [Kestrelshade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kestrelshade/gifts), [Syllis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syllis/gifts), [alcyonejonquil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alcyonejonquil/gifts), [WolfIsa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfIsa/gifts).



There was an art to casting these pantomimes. No one wanted to cast the count's heir as Random Hoplite #5, but it was considered a little _too_ ingratiating if he got to be Pelinal with his shiny tinfoil armour, red crepe paper arm of light, and a coat of elf-gore (poster paint).

But thirteen-year-old Regulus Umbranox never wanted to be Pelinal. Or the befeathered and very glamorous villain Umaril. He had made his calculations early on in the preparations for this pantomime. Cecilia Varo had been cast as Alessia, so Regulus would be Morihaus Breath-of-Kyne and get his kiss.

Morihaus, of course, was the winged man-bull, lover of the Slave Queen. He was an integral part of the legend, though a challenging one to the sensibilities of the adults organizing the pantomime. The director of the show, a well-meaning cleric of Julianos, had bowed to pressure from some of the more conservative Anvil nobles, and agreed that Morihaus should not appear too bestial. A pair of papier-mache horns, yes, that would be suitable. Thus, young Regulus donned a pair of tiny horns and prepared for his great scene, in which he would assure Alessia that Pelinal's sacrifice would not be forgotten, and then kiss her to great applause. (The rest of the show he mostly stood behind Pelinal and cheered him on.)

Then just as he was about to live out his dream, everything was ruined. By none other than his beloved's father, just returned home from a long deployment. Junius Varo looked at the costume and began to laugh. To _guffaw_ , to be precise.

"What's this Alessian nonsense?" he demanded of the flustered priest. "Where's the bull's head?"

The priest protested that Morihaus was sometimes portrayed as entirely human. There was a famous statue in the Imperial City which didn’t even have horns, had Varo ever seen it?

"Cowards!" said Varo. He fixed a knowing eye on Regulus. "I'll get you a proper bull's head, my lad."

The rest was a disaster. Regulus tottered around the stage in a huge hairy bull's head Varo had somehow procured an hour before the show began. At his great moment, he heard Cecilia's lips pucker up against the side of the head. There was applause, yes, but there was even more laughter. 

He could not even see where he was going, but he knew that Cecilia's father was sitting in the front row enjoying every moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first entry in OC Kiss Bingo. Those two are my own OCs and this story is absolutely canon to my other fics but next entry I begin borrowing others'.


	2. Surprise Kiss: Alen and Silmarien

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alen on loan from Iunara. Silmarien is my Elenwen’s younger sister.

**Scene: A winter evening. The Winking Skeever, Solitude. Company is gathered around the fire. ALEN, a big Nord barbarian who looks just like the guy in the Skyrim trailers, is sharing somewhat disjointed stories of his various adventures.**

**Sorex Vinius:** Tell us that story again, Alen, the one with the naked elf girl and the Thalmor. [Loud sniggers, no one at the inn's hearth tonight really believes it.]

 **Alen:** I'm telling you, it happened. As if I could make up something like that. [This excellent point sets the guests a-murmuring.]

 **Sorex:** Tell us again then.

 **Alen:** All right. So, I'm crossing a glacier and -

 **Lisette:** Why were you crossing a glacier?

 **Alen** : That's not important. The important part is what happens next. The bit with the elf woman. She nearly froze to death, you know.

 **Lisette** : I still want to know why you were crossing a glacier.

 **Alen:** Look, I don't know _every_ mountain in Skyrim. I went the wrong way and it was faster to cross the glacier. All right? And it's a good thing I did because that's where I found her. She was wedged into a crevasse. 

**Sorex** : And she was naked.

 **Alen:** Shut up, I never said she was naked. She had a thing on, a slip or a nightgown or something. Maybe it's what they wear all the time in Summerset, it's supposed to be warm there.

 **Lisette:** Really, a high elf?

 **Alen** : Gold tall one, yeah. She was pretty, for an elf. Honey-blonde hair and sparkling green eyes. I got a good look at her eyes later. 

**Octieve San** : I'd have left her in the glacier. [spits]

 **Sorex:** Please, not on our floor, sir.

 **Alen:** I know what you're thinking, was she a Thalmor? Nah, she wasn't a Thalmor. They mostly wear those black-and-gold uniforms, you know. And they don't generally hang out on top of glaciers.

 **Sorex:** They've better sense than that.

 **Alen** : There's no Talos worshippers on top of glaciers. So, I asked her, “What are you doing down there, Miss Elf?” And she said, "I'm looking for my amulet, Mister Nord. But it's just out of reach." So then of course I had to help her get the amulet, and well, I ended up stuck down there with her. My bad luck, except then we were at close quarters so she was warmed up a bit by my furs. So, since there wasn't much to do down there, we got acquainted.

 **Sorex:** "Acquainted." [Lisette shushes him. Like the other patrons, she's now interested in this story.]

 **Alen:** Aye, _acquainted_. I asked her name. She says, Silmarien. Pretty name. I told her my name. And then there wasn't much to do but listen to her talk, while I'm staring in her eyes. I don't know how she got to Skyrim, because she didn't know either. The last thing she remembered was a party in Jehanna, so that's closer than Summerset, but how did she get on the glacier? It beats me. I'll be on my deathbed wondering about that.

So I started thinking, maybe we'll die here in this glacier. Didn't tell _her_ that. Didn't want her to worry. She was still trying to reach the amulet. Golden eagle, with real rubies for eyes. She said it was a family heirloom, and that's not all it was! But no, I don't want to spoil the ending, because it was surprising, that's what it was, and you wouldn't think they had magic that could send messages at the press of a button.

 **Sorex:** [impatiently] The amulet summoned the Thalmor.

 **Alen:** Oh now you've got to go spoil it. It didn't summon the Thalmor anyway. It alerted Silmarien's sister where she was, and _her sister_ sent the Thalmor. But we didn't have the amulet yet, you can't just skip to the end of the story. Well, I was feeling sorry for her, dying all alone in a foreign country far from her family. And the amulet was hanging just out of reach. So I stretched myself as far as I could, till something popped in my shoulder, which was bad, but those Justiciaries fixed it up later - surprisingly nice of them. Then I had another idea, maybe I could stick my foot through the chain and pull it up that way. And it worked!

[applause from patrons]

Well, then. She pulls the chain off my foot, and she says, "Thank you, Alen. For a Nord, you're a real sweetheart." And then, what do you think she did next?

 **Sorex:** She kissed you.

 **Alen:** Yes indeed! She kissed me right on the lips and I didn't know _where_ to look. Since we were jammed up so close together. So I just kept looking at those green eyes. Figured I'd die looking into those eyes and it didn't seem so bad.

Of course, I didn't know the amulet was a beacon of sorts. She pressed down on one of the jeweled eyes and hours later the Thalmor came looking for her. They pulled us out of the crevasse and one of them fixed my shoulder. I was going to offer Silmarien some of my furs, but they'd brought extra black-and-gold robes to wrap her in.

We walked down off the glacier together, and I invited them all to come down to the inn with me to get a drink, but they wanted to get back to whatever it is Thalmor do, so I said Goodbye to Silmarien. I was hoping she might give me another kiss, but those Justiciaries were watching, and I don't think she was supposed to be kissing Nords. Not the elf way, as I understand it. Anyhow, she thanked me very prettily, and away they went. Now what do you think of that?

 **Sorex:** I still don't believe a word of it.

 **Alen** : That's because you're jealous, ain’t you?

[Applause. Alen has won this round fair and square.]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Silmarien left out the part where she ~~stole~~ borrowed a gryphon from Cloudrest, by the way. She fell off while drunk-gryphon-riding. 
> 
> Alen's fic isn't published yet so I guess this is his first appearance. Thanks [Iunara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iunara/pseuds/Iunara) for lending him to me.
> 
> Silmarien is mine, but has similarly not appeared in a published fic yet. She's out partying while her big sister Elenwen is busy working.


	3. Angry Kiss: Curinwe and Kel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dunmer Dwemer enthusiast Kel borrowed from Kestrelshade. Timelines completely adjusted for AU acquaintance of the two lonely Raven Rock kids.

"Stupid! Stupid, stupid _idiot_! Why don’t you do us all a favour and throw yourself down the next mine shaft you come across?”

Kel took a precautionary step backwards as the angry young woman advanced on him. “Thank you, Curinwe,” he offered.

“ _Oh it’s a Dwemer ruin! I have to go in and see what’s in it!”_ she growled. Presumably, she was mimicking his voice there. It wasn’t a good time to point out how badly. “Guess what? There’s a reason they’re ruins, Kelus! Because no one in their right mind would want to hang out there!”

That was going too far. There were plenty of people, allegedly in their right minds, who held the same feeling of admiration for Dwemer ruins as Kel did. He’d read their monographs. Corresponded with them. Attended their funerals . . .

He cleared his throat. “I said, thank you. For rescuing me.”

“Why did I do that?” she fumed. “Complete waste of the Legion’s resources. You’re heading right back in again.”

It was impossible for him to deny it. She’d caught him in the act, one foot already within the door.

“Say something!” she snapped. “Stop running away! You always run away!” 

He hadn’t run away on her, though. It was never his choice to leave Raven Rock the way he did. She of all people should have known that.

“I’ll be back in a couple days,” he promised her. “I just need to finish this survey.” Then what? They could catch up again? By her uniform, she was a Legion officer now. She must be plenty busy and probably not that interested in any of his research. They’d been childhood pals: two lonely souls with no-one else to talk to. That was all that united them.

“Go then.” Her voice had turned icy. But she took another step forward, and grabbed him by the collar, pulling his face down to hers. “You’ve wasted my time, and I don’t care if you ever come back.” Her lips crashed into his without warning. 

She left him rubbing a bruised lip and wondering if surveying this Dwemer ruin was really so absolutely important after all.

Of course it was. He’d tell her all about his discoveries later. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kel is [Kestrelshade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kestrelshade/pseuds/Kestrelshade)'s boy. Not appearing in published fic here yet.
> 
> Curinwe is my Dragonborn's grandmother and has her own fic, All the Days of Her Life. 
> 
> In their more usual timelines, they're not contemporaries. However, they have some oddly similar backgrounds, so we wondered if they'd have got along if they both lived in Raven Rock at the same time.


	4. Kiss Aftermath - Cyrelian and Firion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The charming Justiciar Cyrelian borrowed from Syllis. Bosmer civil servant Firion is mine.

“That . . . ahhh . . . that was excellent.” Firion fought to get back her breath. “It was – just one thing, Justiciar.” She put her hand on his chest to gently push him back. “Before we go any further, just as a precaution _, Pedigrees._ ”

Cyrelian’s eyes narrowed. “Are you –“

“Half-Altmer,” she confirmed. “Of good breeding, so we should compare.”

“Of course!” He put a proper distance back between them. “No trouble at all. Best we should take the necessary precautions.”

“I’ll make it up to you if it’s all fine,” she promised. She really did fancy this cocky young Justiciar. “But let’s see.” She named her father and his Kinship.

She could not have imagined how pale Cyrelian was capable of turning. She knew the worst before he even answered. “Unfortunately, that’s well within the prohibited degrees of kinship,” he said drily.

“ _Fuck_.” Firion put her hand to her lips. 

“I should have thought to ask first,” he apologized. 

She shook her head. “No, you couldn’t have guessed. I’m sorry. Best we found out now, right?”

“Certainly for the best.”

They stared at each other.

“How exactly are we related?” Firion asked at last.

“Exactly?” Cyrelian frowned. “Do you have a quill I can borrow? We can try to sketch out a family tree.”

The resulting tree was even more depressing than Firion imagined it could be. “Great-uncle,” she said despairingly.

“Half-great-uncle,” he amended. 

“This never happened,” Firion told him forcefully.

“Nothing happened,” he agreed. “We discovered our kinship in friendly conversation, and retired to a private location to exchange the appropriate greetings and inquiries after our shared family members’ continued good health. Then we bid each other an early good night, and went our separate ways.”

“Excellent. Good night, Great-Uncle Cyrelian.”

There was a twinge of pain in his expression, but he recovered magnificently. “Good night, my young kinswoman. I look forward to meeting you at future family gatherings.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In their separate universes, Cyrelian is Elenwen's younger half-brother and Firion is Elenwen's great-niece. This is what happens if you super-impose their family trees.
> 
> Firion has not shown up yet in any of my published works. Cyr is a main character in Syl's series, [Seek to Mend.](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1293077)


	5. Forehead Kiss: Clea Orsino and Emilin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A young Clea Orsino borrowed from alcyonejonquil. Emilin is mine.

“Captain Orsino’s daughter?” The Bosmer woman phrases it as a question, but it isn’t. She’s sure. No one seeing Clea would not be. 

“Yes, Ma’am.” Clea straightens almost imperceptibly at the mention of her father’s name. “Clea Orsino, Auxiliary.”

“You’re not on duty, Clea,” the woman reminds her. “And I haven’t been in the Legion for decades. Please call me Emilin.”

Emilin. Clea’s studied recent history. She's digested, pondered, interrogated and regurgitated it, until her brain aches. The rise of the Thalmor, the Great War, she knows as much as there is to publicly know of the Empire’s years of disaster. She certainly recognizes the name of Imperial Battlemage Curinwe Varo’s right-hand-woman. This is Emilin of Silvenar, a legend in her own right as a Legion scout.

“It’s an honour to meet you, Emilin.” She’s come up with Junius Varo’s party, Clea realizes. The famed battlemage is visiting various garrisons, no doubt accessing their ability to withstand another war. Whatever Emilin says, she’s here to observe future officers like Clea, to see if they live up to the rigorous standard the Emperor has set for them. 

“Can I parley that honour into a cup of tea?” asks Emilin. Clea, of course, assents, and conducts Emilin into the mess. 

Emilin asks questions as they go along. That shouldn’t scare Clea. It’s only what her father’s been preparing her for. She has all the answers ready. Yet, Emilin’s friendly manner is somehow more intimidating than any examination. 

“Excellent,” Emilin says when they’ve sat down and she’s tasted the newly brewed tea. “Make a good cup of tea and your future in the Legion is limitless.”

Limitless. Clea smothers a bitter laugh. Her future has been set in stone. It’ll be a useful one of service to the Empire, but she can’t start pretending away the limits.

Emilin puts the mug down. “You don’t believe me, Clea,” she says mildly.

“No, I do ma’am - I mean, why shouldn’t I, Emilin?”

“Because right now you’re trapped.”

“I’m – what do you mean, ma’am?”

“I do know your father a little,” says Emilin. “He’s a good officer. A good man, I think. But . . .” Emilin shrugged. “I knew a father and daughter much like you two once. A long time ago. She was brilliant and he prized her for all her brilliance. But he wanted her to be so much, _so much_ more than any child should have to bear. And so, she could never be good enough for him. No matter how hard she tried, she could not live up to his standards, because he would raise them further. It was heartbreaking to watch this girl grow up that way.”

Clea is a student of history. She can recognize who the girl must be. And it’s a bewildering honour to hear this woman describe the lost love of her life: the famous Curinwe. And for Emilin to relate her to Clea?

“Are you saying that’s like me?” Clea asks slowly. She should defend her father from the charge. It’s his honour at stake. She should –

“I’m saying, she won through. You will too, Clea.” Emilin leans over and softly kisses her forehead. Then she stands up. “And now I really have to find out where Junius has got to. Thanks for the tea."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clea Orsino (and her exacting father) can be found in [alcyonejonquil's fics.](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alcyonejonquil/pseuds/alcyonejonquil/works?fandom_id=309473). 
> 
> Emilin is a major character in my Skyrim fic.


	6. Cheek Kiss : Nikos Aelius and Regulus Umbranox

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another outing for my Regulus Umbranox. Nikos is borrowed from WolfIsa.

“Excuse me, sir, but were you the one who snatched the best silver service out of my scullery?”

The voice came from a man seated on a block of limestone towards the back of the cave.

Nikos had seen the signs of a break-in outside, so he wasn’t surprised to meet an intruder. However, when he held his lantern up to get a better look, he was taken aback. “I wouldn’t have expected this of you, my Lord,” he greeted Regulus Umbranox, the fresh-faced young Count of Anvil. 

“Why not?” 

The thief chuckled. “Not your place, my Lord. Did you pay someone to lead you down here?”

“No.”

“You expect me to believe you found this hideaway yourself?”

“No. I didn’t do that either, Master Foxglove.” The Count stood up. “I just went to my library, looked up the closest bolt-holes to Anvil Castle, and then searched them. The first three didn’t look as if they’d been used for a century. Lucky for me this one was still in use.”

“Your library, my Lord?”

“Yes, my library. Where my madcap ancestor deposited his private journal. Has your guild really forgotten?”

“I’d heard rumours,” Nikos said cautiously. 

“Officially denied, of course,” said the Count.

“And personally confirmed then?”

Count Umbranox smiled. “I’m not here to get the silver back. I suppose old Corvus would come and haunt me if I did. Fair’s fair, this time anyway, though I won’t be engaging your troupe at any of my future entertainments.”

Nikos’ instinct was that the Count was sincere. He’d come here without any of his guards; Nikos had made sure of that before entering. “You’re here to warn me away, then?”

“I wonder how useful _that_ would be. You’re very good at what you do.”

“Thank you.”

“Didn’t even suspect you were involved. Not till you came in now.”

“So now you know. Anything else I can help you with, my Lord?”

“Yes. I was thinking . . .” The man seemed oddly flustered, a strange contrast to his brazen decision to confront a thief alone in his own den. “I’ve never met anyone from the Guild before, not that I know of, anyway. They wouldn’t tell me, would they?”

“Wouldn’t be professional of them,” Nikos agreed.

“I’ve always thought I’d like to, though.” There was an odd little smile on the Count’s face. “We used to play Gray Fox in the smugglers’ tunnels under the castle. I’d imagine following in his footsteps: robbing from my fellow nobles and sharing my largesse with the poor and oppressed. Well, that isn’t my lot in my life; my duty is to strengthen this port’s defences against another Dominion attack. But I’m still curious . . . the Guild, do you reckon my ancestor would approve of it today?” 

“I can’t speak for the Guild,” Nikos said carefully. “Only for myself. But I’ve kept the Gray Fox’s code. Always.”

Count Umbranox’s smile widened. “Well then, it was worth the meeting, Master Foxglove. Good luck with all your endeavours. I hope you make good use of the silver.”

“I will, my Lord.”

“Call me Regulus.” For a second he seemed as if he was going to shake Nikos’ hand. Then he surprised Nikos once more by embracing him instead and kissing his cheek, as though they were now close friends.

Nikos stared after the man as he left. They’d have to stop using this cave. And re-evaluate all their Anvil operations. It would probably be best he keep clear of the Gold Coast for now, no matter how friendly Count Umbranox professed himself to be.

But he thought, if luck had it, he wouldn’t be adverse to meeting the man again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Regulus is a minor character in my main Skyrim fic. Nikos is a main character of WolfIsa's fic, [Caritas](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22692193/chapters/54236968) in which he, Brynjolf, and Vex are planning a heist.


End file.
